


A Beautiful World, Hidden Deceit

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Time, M/M, Romance, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-31
Updated: 2007-08-07
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Dean and Sam have been dancing around the issue about their true feelings about each other for a while now. The yellow-eyed demon wants Sam and his special abilities. But to get to him, he must first eliminate the one thing standing in the way- Sam's protective big brother Dean.Dean is captured by the YED but an evil entity with unique and deadly talents also wants Dean, but for what reasons?it's a race against time as Sam desparately searches for his missing older brother.Will Sam ever have the chance to tell him what he really feels?





	1. Preview

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** takes place after 'in my time of dying' but deviates away from there, so for this fic everthing from 'everybody loves a clown' onwards hasnt yet occured.  
>   
>  i read that there's an upcoming episode that's about dean being thrown into an alternate reality so im trying to get through as much of this fic as possible before it airs.unfortunately that epi is in 2 days time so i doubt i'll get far before then.  
> however that epi isnt about to be aired here in australia for several more weeks so i hope any future updates dont look like a bad spin off of the show.

  
Author's notes:  
my spin on plots where one of the winchester boys experience or is thrust into an alternate reality and wonders what is real and what is not.  


* * *

"Hey, I think he's finally coming to...Dean! Can you hear me? Try and open your eyes man. C'mon, you can do it."

 

Dean tried to fight out of the haze that seemed to weigh down and cloud his head. He heard voices fading in and out nearby and could sense movements beside him. 

 

An insistent voice kept pulling at him, urging him to wake up. He couldn't make sense of the actual words being said but somehow he knew the person belonging to that voice was telling him to wake up. He could hear it in the tone of the voice, the insistence, the urgency and the concern with a hint of fear underneath it.

 

His head felt strange, like it was stuffed with cotton wool. He urged his eyes to open but they remained stubbornly closed. He wanted to see who the voice belonged to, who was calling him with such concern, such love.

 

"Come on Dean, please..." the nameless voice begged, the masculine tone breaking on the last word.

 

It was said with such fear and desperation that something in him was stirred. The heaviness in his head cleared enough that one single thought broke through. Sammy. He had to wake up, Sammy was in trouble, he needed help, protection.

 

The second attempt to open his eyes was difficult but successful. With what felt like super human effort, he counted silently to three and forced his eyes to peel open. That tiny action was at once exhausting and painful as his head registered bright white light piercing his skull. A dark shape moved into his line of vision as the light forced him to blink quickly to adjust himself into his new surroundings. He focused on the dark shape and was rewarded as his vision became less blurry and he could make out the face of his younger brother leaning over him. 

 

Sammy appeared to be physically fine which confused him. Hadn't he been calling Dean frantically? He thought Sam had been in danger. Dean looked around at his surroundings and what he saw shocked and scared him. 

 

The last thing he remembered was leaving Sam at the little motel they had been staying at while they had hunted down the savage werewolf killing hikers every month at the time of the full moon. The hunt had been successful and neither of them had been injured enough to warrant a visit to the hospital which was where they evidently in right now judging by the sterile white walls, the hard uncomfortable bed he was lying on and the beeping machines and various wires connected to him. Another indication was the pain. Even through the drugs he had been given, and he could tell he was given a fair amount by the heaviness of his head and limbs, the fuzziness in his mind and the dryness of his mouth, he could still feel a fair amount of it. It throbbed through his entire body, not a spare inch of his body felt like it had been spared from whatever had hurt him. 

 

However, it wasn't his unexplainable injuries, presence in the hospital, or lack of memory about why he was here and what had happened that had him gasping and trying to scoot up the bed and search frantically for a weapon to protect himself and Sammy. 

 

After he had assured himself that Sam seemed fine and unhurt, he had scanned his surroundings and surmised he was in a hospital. And then his gaze landed on two other people present in the room. One of them came forward.

 

"Oh Thank God! You're awake baby. I was so worried about you!"

 

No! This can't be, Dean thought, shocked. I'm dreaming. The woman was now leaning over him on the opposite side of Sam. She gently took his hand lying limply on the bed covers. No, this isn't right, she's not supposed to be here, he thought.

 

Long wavy blond hair, oval face, pretty features scrunched with concern. A face he hadn't seen in more than two decades, bar one split moment that first time he and Sammy had returned to Kansas in search for answers about Sam‘s new found abilities. 

 

"Mom?"


	2. Chapter 1

  
Author's notes: the actual beginning of the fic. the firt post is a preview only.  
its short i know but necessary for the plotline.  
chapt 2 is already on its way.  


* * *

The old high security prison was clearly abandoned, the run down building stood in stark contrast to the dead vegetation surrounding it, imposing concrete fences topped with sharp wire ran around the whole institution. 

 

The man with gleaming yellow eyes turned to the person next to him. 

 

“You are certain this place will suit our needs?”

 

The person, a pretty brunette in her 20’s smiled at him as she blinked and her chocolate brown eyes were replaced with cold black ones. 

 

“Yes. This prison has been abandoned for more then half a century when it got too full to hold all the prisoners. They eventually built a bigger facility farther away and had everyone transferred. No one will bother us here.”, she stated coolly

 

The yellow eyed man smiled in satisfaction. 

 

“Good. Have everything set up. We make our move tonight, if I know anything about Dean Winchester, it‘s that he likes to go out for a beer to celebrate a successful hunt. You should have no problem scoping him out, there’s only 2 or 3 bars in that in-the-middle-of-nowhere-town. You know what you have to do?”.

 

The brunette nodded. 

 

“I do.”


	3. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: not much action happening in this chap but it's a good lead up to what's gonna happen i guess. i know its all a bit un-Dean like for him to analyse his feelings an all but i think it makes it easier to understand what he's thinking about.  
this also takes place before the events of the first chapt(dean waking up to see his mom)  


* * *

Dean Winchester stared morosely into his half drunk beer. The hunt had gone well and the poltergeist he and Sam had come to take off had easily been dispatched with. However his mind wasn’t on the successful conclusion of the hunt, it wasn’t on where to find the next one or even on the pretty bartender who had been giving him obvious glances every time he glanced up away from his beer. It was on his baby brother. 

 

When he had finally screwed up his courage and went and got Sammy from college to go look for their missing father, his feelings had been shot to hell. They had ranged from a sense of pride and wonderment to see how Sam had changed and matured from the last time he had seen him face to face, a sense of relief that for the time they had together he could carry out his big brother duties and watch out for his younger brother to hope and yearning that Sam would see how much Dean needed him and Dad to come back so they could all be a family again. And then there were the other feelings, the more darker ones that he barely dared to acknowledge, feelings he hated himself for having. Because they were wrong, wrong and twisted. 

 

He had discovered he had feelings he shouldn’t have had for Sammy when he was eighteen and Sam had turned 14. He was at that age that the puppy fat he had carried around disappeared giving his once childish face a leaner, more mature appearance and his height had suddenly shot up making him all gangly arms and legs. It was also at that time that Sam had discovered girls. When he had come home from school one day, he had announced, grinning brightly that Sherry Winters from his science class and who was THE most popular girl n the year had asked him to sit with her at lunch. the following days became filled with Sam’s blow-by-blow recounts of the time he spent with Sherry, where they sat, what they ate, what they talked about, how he was the envy off all the guys, how pretty she was. It drove Dean up the wall, yeah he was proud that Sam had pulled the most popular girl in his year but deep inside he felt resentment, fear and- he hated to admit it, but he was also jealous. Sam was his. He had been since their father had put the squirming bundle of Dean’s new baby brother in his 4 year old arms and told him to run out of the burning house. He couldn’t help but think Sam was becoming more distanced from him. When Sam had been a child, and as a result of their lifestyle and dad’s hunting , they had basically only really had each other. They never stayed in one town long enough to settle down and make friends but they were content with each other’s company. Dean was Sam’s hero. It worried Dean that the intrusion of a girl would lessen the close bond he and Sammy shared. As Sam’s infatuation with the girl continued growing Dean’s resentment and jealousy of her grew, she was taking Sammy away from him. It was then that Dean had had to acknowledge that he felt more for his brother then he should. He had romantic, intimate thoughts and feelings about him. It horrified him that he thought this way and he fought to repress them, bury them deep inside him where no one would ever see. He threw himself into hunting and training, honing his weaponry and fighting skills, pushing himself so he would collapse into bed exhausted at night , hoping he had pushed himself hard enough that he would fall into a deep dreamless sleep. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, and when it didn’t he would fall into dreams full of slick limbs, sweaty skin, urgent kisses and a face concealed by a mop of brown hair. In an attempt to drown these out Dean turned to getting trashed as often as he could get away with, however now that he was hunting full time with his father he had to stay focused on the hunt, the opportunities were few. He pushed himself into satisfying his sexual frustration elsewhere, he didn’t bother getting to know any of the girls or the few guys he screwed , they were a means to an end. Over time the romantic feelings about Sam were so deeply repressed Dean began to believe they were really gone.

 

When Sam had left for college, Dean tried to convince himself that his heart had NOT taken a huge blow, it was just college, Sam would be back and the stupid words their dad had shouted at Sam would be forgotten , they would be a family again. Coming to convince Sammy to come with him, Dean’s heart had fluttered with nerves, meeting the gorgeous Jess, he had flirted to cover up the insecurity and jealously he had been experiencing. So Sammy was reaching for that apple pie life he had dreamed about, and Dean didn’t seem to be a part of it.

 

Going onto the road together, spending nearly all their time together in close, intimate quarters, the feelings Dean thought he had exorcised came flooding right back. They intensified after their father’s death. Sam was the only family he had left, Dean was terrified of losing him, he wouldn’t let it happen, he refused to let it happen. Dean knew without a doubt that if Sam died or went dark side he wouldn’t be able to survive, with this fear at the top of his mind at all times he had perhaps become a little to reckless about his safety. His sole focus became Sammy’s safety, Sam’s safety before his own. He threw himself in front of anything that went after Sam be it a vengeful spirit or vicious werewolf, he had to know where Sam was at all times and he became overly worried about any injuries Sam obtained. He knew Sam was suspicious of this kind of behavior and felt closed in but he just didn’t understand that it was Dean’s duty, that it was important. The weight of the feelings he carried for Sam weighed him down, he was terrified of what would happen if he slipped up and Sam found out. His heart contracted painfully at the thought that Sam would leave him if he ever found out. Which brought him back to why he was sitting at the run down bar on his own, trying to get as drunk as possible.

 

Sam knew. He knew everything about Dean’s feelings for him, had found out after the hunt had gone pear shaped for a moment. And now he had found out, he was going to leave him.


	4. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: my evil villain, as im sure you'll notice seems to be a strange blend of vampire and shtriga with a few added powers thrown in. lol.  
  
again, not much action is happening but things seem to be moving along.  


* * *

The figure buried deep in the ground twitched lightly. Beautiful blue eyes slowly opened as his senses told him what he yearned for was nearby. Decision made, he burst from the packed earth, eager to track what he wanted down. He had been in hibernation nearly half a century, he could have stayed sleeping longer but when he had sensed the presence of a true warrior’s soul and spirit nearby he had felt an unbelievable hunger gnaw at him, forcing him out of his deep sleep. Once above the earth the figure turned around slowly, studying his surroundings. A lot had changed in the last half century or so if the changed landscaping around him indicated anything. He was not entirely ignorant of the changes that had occurred, creatures such as him possessed supersensitive hearing and smell, even while in hibernation as well as a range of psychic powers -hypnotism, telekinesis, mind reading, mind control, all highly useful for their survival as creatures neither human nor beast. In his hibernation he had heard things, smelt things that explained some of the major changes to the world while he slept. 

 

Behind him, his sensitive ears picked up the steady thump-thump of a person jogging through the area. He had heard many during his sleep, running over his resting area, gasping for breath, their minds completely open to his psychic mind reading abilities, oh the things he had learned. He cast his mind out, searching for the presence that had woken him earlier, once located he was able to sense the individual. Curious about the fear and grief that enveloped the young man’s presence he tried to probe the his mind. His interest was piqued when he met resistance, few humans had been able to close their mind against him over the thousands of years he had walked the earth, even fewer had succeeded when they weren’t even aware of him. Even though the man with the soul of a warrior was quite a distance away from him, his strength, loyalty and passion beckoned, ravenous hunger clawed at him, it had been many years since he had tasted the essence of a warrior, a protector, they were few and far between but definitely the most rewarding and fulfilling. Soon, he assured himself. Right now he had to concentrate on finding his next feed to tide him over till he could hunt down this warrior.

 

The jogger was quickly approaching. Her mind was completely open allowing him to learn what he needed, his muscles shifted in anticipation of a quick, easy feed. The jogger ran through into the clearing, she slowed down in surprise as she noticed the man standing in her path ahead of her. Her eyes widened at the beauty of the man in front of her.

 

“Oh! Good even-”

 

She never got to finish her cautious greeting as he appeared in front of her in a flash, she hadn’t even seen him move, her eyes locked onto chillingly beautiful blue eyes. She tried to scream as he caught her in his steel-like grip.

 

“Don’t even try it.” he whispered softly.

 

The jogger was stunned when her mind cooperated and her mouth clamped itself shut. She whimpered pathetically as an elegant hand was placed over her forehead and eyes. Everything went black.

 

He worked quickly, creating a reality for her that she would willingly accept. He couldn’t feed until she was unresisting. From his earlier mind probing he had learned her dreams, regrets and fears, he used these now to win her over. She was married to a man she didn’t love, in a childless marriage, she felt unloved and unappreciated and hated her staid routine life. He wove a new life for her in her mind, putting her in a reality where she was married to an ex boyfriend she regretted leaving, giving her a beautiful home, an exciting career and two beautiful children. She was won over in minutes, he snorted in disgust at how easily she had fallen for the fake reality and fed quickly. When he was finished he laid the body down on the ground. She looked as if she had simply fallen asleep, her features were smooth and serene as if she were having a pleasant dream, her breathing deep and even. But for all purposes she was dead. She would never wake up, there simply wasn’t any life left after her soul had been stripped off her, she was now a mere shell. 

 

He frowned slightly wondering if he should dispose of the body, usually when he fed, he fed until the body was no longer recognizable- the body drained of all life quickly became nothing but a pile of ash. On some occasions however, he had simply not been hungry enough to drain the body and they were either left as normal looking bodies like that of the jogger or as rotting corpses. He shrugged carelessly, he didn’t care to bother as he would much rather get to the task of hunting the warrior, his basic hunger had been satisfied but the primal need inside him gnawed viciously for the warrior’s essence. The warrior’s soul would give him something normal humans couldn’t. Slating his hunger on that one warrior would satisfy the primal beast within him for some time. Ever since he had been created the beast inside him sought to get free. It demanded to be fed, it demanded bloodshed, it demanded power. Night and day it gnawed at him until he thought he would go insane. It would never be fully satisfied until it tasted the essence of those rare individuals who possessed souls of strength and power. Whose souls had been tainted by darkness in their crusade to protect and love. The beast within him only knew evil, it yearned for essences that were pure but not of pure innocence or goodness. It didn’t understand concepts such as those, so therefore it craved forms similar but with a touch of darkness. 

 

Following his senses he headed in the direction of the warrior.


	5. Chapter 4

Dean sighed heavily in disgust when he realized his attempt at drowning out his troubles by drinking himself stupid wasn’t going to be working on this particular occasion. He was too on edge, too fearful and he realized he would need a clear head when he got back to the motel room and faced Sam after tonight‘s events.

 

How could I be so stupid? he asked himself as he replayed what had happened earlier that evening. Sam knows and now he‘s freaked out, he’s going to leave you and you‘ll never be able to see him again. The list of retorts spun around in his head over and over again and Dean felt his heart contract painfully at the thought of Sam leaving him with an expression of disgust and mistrust on his face. It was his deepest fear, not just of Sam leaving him, but leaving him because he hated and didn’t trust him.

 

Flashback to earlier that night………………………………......................................................................... 

 

“Y’know Dean, when you said you wanted to take a little break away from the hunt…THIS wasn’t what I imagined. I KNEW it was too good to be true.” Sam snarked.

 

Dean ducked his head and grinned into his chest at the tone of his brother’s voice.

 

“Less bitching more digging Sammy- boy” he sing-songed. “I don’t wanna stay out here longer than necessary. It‘s kinda chilly out here.” 

 

Sam snorted in disgust. “Idiot. And why the hell do I have to dig up the freakin corpse?”. 

 

Dean laughed before adjusting his torch and shining it downwards at the shallow grave Sam was digging up, allowing Sam to see where he was digging more clearly. He estimated Sam would come upon the coffin any moment now.

 

“This IS a little break Sammy. Its just a simple salt and burn, a piece of cake. We’ll be out of here in no time and then we can have the next few days to relax.”, Dean reasoned, addressing Sam’s complaints.

 

“Oh, and you’re the one digging up the grave because I’m the older brother and because I told you so”, he stated simply. He was rewarded with a low growl from the shallow pit below him.

 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”, Dean grinned, really, it was way too easy to rile up his little brother.

 

Before Sam could fire off another retort, the shovel thudded against something solid in the packed dirt. Positioning himself, Sam swung the shovel against the coffin lid and smashed it open. The smell of decomposed flesh wafted through the splintered lid and Sam gagged slightly.

 

“Man I hate this, its so damn gross.”, he groaned. 

 

“Don’t be such a girl.”, Dean teased. He made a face as the overpowering stink of rotten flesh grew stronger so that even he could smell it from above the coffin. He stared down at the corpse lying below. Melissa Brown, a 19 year old college student shot to death by her drug addicted ex-boyfriend in her dorm room. Since her death 6 weeks ago, 5 college students on campus had been killed, one of them her ex. Each student killed had been young, male and had reputations as wild party animals, known to overindulge in alcohol and a variety of drugs. Melissa had not been laid to rest and her violent death had led her to seek vengeance against people she viewed were like her violent ex.

 

“Dean, pass the salt and kerosene” Sam asked, wanting to finish as soon as possible so they could get the hell out of there.

 

Dean gave Sam the bag of salt and kerosene, whistling tunelessly. Sam started to generously sprinkle salt over the corpse.

 

Dean stiffened as the air around them suddenly dropped below freezing. 

 

“As soon as we get back to the motel I’M getting the shower first. I did all the work after all” Sam huffed in annoyance. “God, I smell gross-”

 

Before he could react Dean was being thrown away from Melissa’s grave. The breath was knocked out of him when he awkwardly collided with another hard granite headstone. Hard. He grimaced as pain blossomed in his torso.

 

“Dean!”, Sam’s panicked voice carried over.

 

Coughing slightly, Dean scrambled onto his knees as Melissa appeared in front of him. Her skin was deathly pale, her white cotton top was soaked with blood and her pretty features were twisted in an ugly expression. She was clearly not happy with their exorcism attempt. She advanced toward him.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam frantically soak the corpse in kerosene. His relief was short-lived however when Sam climbed out of the grave and began to hurriedly rifle through the duffle bag holding some of their supplies.

 

“Dean! Matches! Where are the god-damn matches?!” he shouted. He pulled something out of the bag. A moment later a loud blast cut through the air. Melissa’s ghost disappeared and Sam was by his side in moments. He realized Sam must have pulled out the shotgun loaded with rock salt to temporarily get rid of the spirit.

 

“What are you doing man?!” Dean said brushing Sam away as he tried to help him up. “Light the damn corpse already. She’ll be back any moment.”

 

“I can’t find the matches” Sam retorted striding back to the duffle bag. He crouched down to go through the contents again when he froze and looked up. Melissa was back, and angrier then before. Dean ran towards Sammy and his breath caught in his throat as Sam was thrown back. His heart skipped a beat as Sam hit his head against the corner of a tombstone, and collapsed on the ground.

 

“You bitch!” he snarled diving for the shotgun lying on the grass. Aiming carefully he shot Melissa and despite wanting to run over and check on Sam he forced himself to look for the elusive matches. Frantically digging through the bag, he was conscious of the precious seconds he was losing and of the fact he hadn’t seen or heard Sam move or regain consciousness. Heart pounding he found the matches wedged at the bottom of the bag. Hissing in triumph he lighted a match and threw it into the coffin. Forgetting the flaming corpse he hurried over to Sammy’s prone body.

 

Please let him be alright he thought.

 

“Sammy. Wake up. C’mon”, Dean knew his voice had gone unusually raspy and his words had an undeniable tone of desperation in it, but he didn’t care as long as Sam would wake up.

 

Seconds that felt like hours went by and Dean almost slumped in relief as a slight moan escaped Sam.

 

“Sammy. Sammy come on. That’s it” he breathed as he watched Sam slowly regain consciousness. 

 

As Sam’s mind cleared he noticed he was half laying on Dean’s lap and his head was being cradled by Dean’s hands.

“Dude are you hugging me? What about your ‘no chick flick moments’ rule Dean?”, he asked in disbelief, amusement danced in his eyes.

 

“Hey I’m not allowed to be a little worried about my kid brother knocking himself out, huh?” Dean defended himself. Truthfully, he was beginning to feel a little foolish letting Sam catch him act in such an openly affectionate manner. And Sam’s amused reaction was not helping. He pushed Sam off, satisfied to hear a thud as Sam rolled onto the grass, see if he ever showed his emotions ever again, he thought.

 

“Hey, injured guy here!” Sam scolded, gingerly picking himself up.

 

Dean lost his temper. The hunt had not gone quite as planned and Sam had nearly been severely injured and Sam’s light teasing about his ‘chick flick moment’ smarted. 

 

He rounded on Sam. “What the hell were you thinking back there!” he yelled.

 

Sam eyed him, puzzled. “When?” he asked.

 

“After I got knocked around. Why didn’t you focus on lighting the corpse instead of going after the spirit?!”

 

“What! She was trying to hurt or kill you!”

 

“I could have handled it!” Dean yelled. “And then she went after you instead. If you had just stuck to looking for the damn matches she wouldn’t have time to go after you.”. He was angry he hadn’t been able to protect Sammy, he loved him so much that the fear of losing him forever was a chilling fear he lived with each day.

 

“Dean why are you so worked up about this? It’s no big deal. I’ve been hurt before, much worse too-”

 

Dean cut him off. “No! It is a big deal. I’m supposed to protect you! I can’t bear seeing you get hurt, I just CAN’T! You don’t know what it does to me when you do get hurt.”.

 

He abruptly spun away from Sam, breathing heavily, not believing what he had just let out of his mouth in the heat of the moment. His head was a jumble of thoughts and repressed emotions.

 

“Dean”. Sam came up behind him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Dean. What-!”

 

Before he knew what he was doing, Dean spun around to face Sam and grabbed him. Reaching up one arm he cupped the back of Sam’s head and pulled his face sharply down. Moving forward he pressed his body flush against Sam’s, chest to chest and groin to groin. Barley registering the shock in Sam’s eyes he linked his other arm over a broad shoulder and behind his neck before he clamped his lips against Sam’s.

 

The kiss was hard and desperate, needy. Dean groaned as his body flooded with pleasure as he tasted Sam. His lips were full and soft, and cold from the night air. Dean nipped desperately at them wanting more, needing to taste more of Sam. Heat radiated off Sam’s plaid covered chest warming Dean’s torso, Sam stood frozen to the spot as Dean slowly ground his groin against Sam, familiarizing himself with Sam.

 

And then it ended as Sam suddenly tore away. Eyes wild and shocked he stumbled away from Dean. It had only been a few seconds since Dean had grabbed him but it felt longer, stretched out.

 

“Dean, what the hell are you DOING!”. He asked, fingers coming up to feel his numbed lips in shock.

 

Sam’s panicked cry broke through Dean’s haze of want and it felt as if a bucketful of icy cold water had been thrown on him. What had he done? He had kissed Sammy. His brother. His BABY brother. Against his will.

 

“Sammy. Sammy…I’m sorry. So sorry. I, I didn’t know what I was thinking. Oh God.” Dean whispered painfully. The dark hole in his mind swirled larger and he felt as if he were slowly drowning in it. Look what you’ve done Dean. His mind taunted. You’re a freak. Sammy’s disgusted by you, he’s going to leave.

 

“Sammy, I’m sorry, I-”. 

 

“Save it Dean. Lets just deal with this first. We can talk at the motel” Sam ground out, signaling to the now lightly smoldering grave.

 

The drive back to the motel was silent and strained, as if a knife could cut through the air.

 

As soon as they arrive Sam silently disappeared into the bathroom with a change of clothes, the shower turned on moments later and Dean slumped onto his bed, mind churning about what to tell Sam when he came out. Whatever he came up with all sounded the same to him. He was in love with his brother, he had intimate thoughts about him. Thoughts he shouldn’t have. He was suppose to protect Sammy, not lust after him!

 

When Sam emerged from his hot shower, hair still slightly damp, skin shiny and smelling slightly soapy, Dean couldn’t prevent a sting of arousal flood him and an image of Sam’s naked, toned body in the shower flash into his head. 

 

Sam’s face was closed off from all expression, his usually expressive eyes closed off. Dean felt a stab of fear trickle through him.

 

“What happened back at the cemetery Dean?” he asked calmly.

 

“It was just a joke Sammy” Dean choked out and winced when he heard the apparent lie out loud.

 

Sammy frowned in annoyance, he wasn’t fooled one bit.

 

“The truth Dean.” his tone was firm and final, he wasn’t going to accept any bullshit story.

 

And so Dean spilled. He didn’t see any other way out. He had gotten himself into this mess, the least Sam deserved was the truth. He didn’t tell all the details, just the ones he deemed relevant to Sammy. He didn’t need to know how much of a freak he was.

 

Sam listened to Dean, his face impassive at the beginning, a look of shock slowly creeping in as Dean went on.

 

“How long Dean? How long have you felt…like this?” he choked out.

 

Dean hesitated. He knew he should lie or refuse to answer but Sam could be like a pitbull with a bone when he wanted. He would never let up if he wanted to know the answer.

 

He sighed and told him.

 

“What was that?” Sam asked failing to catch Dean’s whispered answer.

 

His face paled. “That long?…how? How could you have felt like this for so long!? And how could I never have picked up on it!”, Sam’s voice was anguished.

 

Dean moved to comfort him and was shocked when Sam pulled back.

 

“No.” he stated firmly.

 

Oh god. He hates you, Dean silently thought, heart beginning to shatter painfully. He stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, unsure what to do.

 

“Dean. I need some time. Time to process all of this. What you’ve told me. Alone. Please.” he said.

 

“You want me to leave?” Dean choked. His deepest fear was slowly coming true.

 

“Yeah, just a little while” Sam said head bowed. 

 

Dean dreaded to ask but he had to. “How long?”, he expected days, perhaps weeks but the answer surprised him.

 

“Just a few hours Dean. Go to the bar or something.”

 

Dean nodded his head and stiffly walked out, picking his jacket up on the way. He was going to get stinking drunk.

 

End flashback………………………………..................................................................................................

 

Dean sighed and when he glanced at his watch he discovered it was nearly 2 in the morning. He could probably head back to the motel now. As he walked towards the exit he hoped Sam was already asleep so they wouldn’t have to talk until tomorrow. He needed some time.

 

In the car park he had almost reached the Impala when a pretty brunette approached him. He glanced behind her to see what he assumed was her car, it’s bonnet was popped open and he could see smoke swirling out.

 

“Excuse me. Sorry to disturb you but you wouldn’t happen to know anything about cars do you? There’s something wrong with my car and my boyfriend’s got a night shift at work so he can’t come pick me up. The mechanic is closed for the night too.” her big brown eyes shone hopefully into his.

 

“Um sure, I might be able to help.” Dean smiled and let himself be led to the smoking vehicle.

 

The brunette smiled prettily at him.

 

Dean bent over the smoking engine and after a quick glance easily found out what the problem was.

 

“Hey I think I found the problem. I’ll have it fixed in no ti-”

 

He never finished the sentence as pain exploded in his head and everything went dark.

 

The brunette smiled a sinister smile and her eyes briefly gleamed black before becoming a chocolate brown as she stared at the unconscious Dean Winchester at her feet. The plan was coming along nicely.


	6. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes: more to come soon. i wanted to get further into my fic before that new epi airs for some of you guys tomorrow(this chap written wedsday arvo =P) so that my alternate reality cant be seen as a copy of the shows if that makes sense.lol, next part will have dean m=wondering whats real and whats not.  


* * *

When Dean slowly came to and opened his eyes he wished he hadn’t as pain exploded inside his skull. His vision was blurred and his surroundings fuzzy and out of focus, it hurt to readjust his eyes. He tried to lift a hand up to the back of his head where a dull ache throbbed, wondering where he was and what had happened and found his arm wouldn’t move.

 

His sluggish mind cleared a little and he discovered he was slumped on an uncomfortably hard wooden chair. Not only that but his wrists and ankles were tightly bound to the arms and legs of the chair. 

 

“This is not good”, he mumbled to himself.

 

“Quite contrary Dean Winchester. I think this is very good”, a cold voice floated from behind him.

 

Dean stiffened as the figure behind him stepped forward and faced him. 

 

“How do you know my name”, he rasped staring at the unfamiliar man in front of him. He looked to be about his late 30’s with plain brown hair threaded lightly with pepper strands and a thin face.

 

“I know a lot about you Dean. Sammy especially.” the tone was silky, a thread of sinister threat lurked below the words. His plain hazel eyes gleamed gold momentarily.

 

It was like a physical punch to Dean’s already battered body. The yellow eyed demon.

 

“Sonuva bitch”, he snarled straining against his bonds.

 

“Tsk tsk. Language Dean” the demon taunted.

“Shall I kill him for you? It‘d be my pleasure.” a silky feminine voice purred.

 

Dean pulled his head up sharply, he recognized that voice. A curvy body stepped into view and Dean looked up to see the pretty brunette he had tried to help earlier, brown eyes replaced by evil black. It had all been a trap, he realized, and he‘d fallen right into it, distracted by Sammy and the kiss that had unintentionally occurred between them.

 

The demon smirked at him, head tilted slightly to show he was considering the offer. “No, not yet. Not until I have Sam.”

 

Anger flashed over the brunette’s face. “Sam doesn’t have to know he’s already dead, he‘ll believe it if we tell him we‘re holding him alive. Let me kill him father. We need to avenge my brother and sister” she urged.

 

Dean’s mind spun with the information that had been revealed in those few sentences of conversation. One the yellow eyed demon needed to keep him alive. Two, the purpose of the trap was to lure Sam to the demon. The third, the demon possessing the brunette was a child of the yellow eyed demon.

 

“No, it’ll work better to keep him alive. Sam isn’t stupid, he’ll want hard proof he’s alive when we do the trade. You can kill him after I get Sammy. He wont be expecting someone else to do it, he knows how much I hate him.” the demon’s mind was made up. The brunette huffed but didn’t question her father’s answer.

 

Panic rose in Dean’s chest. They were going to lure Sammy here by using him as bait. Then it hit him.

 

“Sammy wont come you know.” he stated, convinced.

 

The two figures stilled.

 

“What do you mean? Of course he’ll come. Big brother’s in trouble, he’ll do anything to keep you safe, you’re all he has” the brunette sneered.

 

“Yeah well, we had a falling out. He wont be wanting to set eyes on my face anytime soon” Dean grinned, inwardly breaking down at the thought that last nights events had driven Sam away.

 

“I don’t believe you” the brunette stated flatly.

 

Dean shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner.

“Whatever. Why’d you think I was at the bar all by myself last night. You’ll see.”, he needed to throw the demons off the track, to allow him time to come up with an escape plan, or to at least find a way to warn Sam and tell him to get the hell out of town.

 

“I know what you’re up to Dean and it isn’t going to work. What have we here? 45 missed calls from Sammy. So much for having a ’falling out’. Let‘s give Sammy a call huh?” the demon said, pulling out a sleek mobile phone. Dean mentally cursed as he recognized his cell nestled in the demon’s palm. 

 

“Gag him.” he ordered jerking his head at Dean. The brunette instantly obeyed, taking pleasure in pulling the rag tightly over his lips.

 

He scrolled through the contacts list until he found ‘Sammy’ and dialed, making sure to put on the speakerphone.

 

Sam picked up after two rings, the disembodied voice floated out the cell. “Dean! Where the hell have you been! I’ve been ringing your damn phone all night!”

 

“Sorry Sammy. Dean can’t come to the phone right now. How bout you and I have a chat?” he smoothly answered.

 

“Who is this? Where’s my brother?!” Sam demanded after a brief silence.

 

“Dean’s just fine. I’ll let you speak with him in a moment. How are you handling your abilities Sammy? Have you been honing them, developing more control over them? You‘re one of my finest, so much untapped power, your destiny awaits you Sammy, why are you so frightened by it? You could be so powerful you know.”

 

“It’s you isn’t it? The demon.” Sam had figured it out.

 

“Spot on Sammy.”

 

“It’s SAM, you son of a bitch! What have you done with Dean!” he yelled.

 

“Nothing…yet.” the demon answered. “You want him to get out of this alive then you have to come with me. If you don‘t…lets say you‘ll be finding Dean bit by bit, limb by limb.”

 

Dean screamed against his gag. It was happening, the demon had come to claim Sammy and he was walking into it because of him. He had been stupid enough to be captured and now Sam had no choice but to save him. 

 

“Oh I think Dean here wants to talk to you. Play nice Dean” the demon laughed, ripping off his gag and holding the phone in front of his face.

 

“Sam! don’t do it. don’t do it. Just get out of here ok?” Dean pleaded, not caring how pathetic he sounded. Sammy came first and he’d die before letting the yellow eyed demon getting his hands on Sammy.

 

The demon gave a displeased grunt and swinging his fist punched Dean in the face. With the supernatural force of Demon power behind it, the punch was harder then any human’s. Dean groaned in pain as his head was snapped back.

 

“Fuck” he murmured.

 

In the distance he could hear the tinny voice of his brother calling his name.

 

The demon grabbed a fistful of hair, pushing his head back, he had lost his patience for the young hunter who had been a thorn in his side for a while now. Dean clamped his lips shut as the demon began to tear into the hunter’s chest with his powers, exactly like the last encounter at the cabin when he had possessed John and slowly tortured Dean, fully intending to kill him. Blood dripped through the thin cotton shirt but Dean didn’t allow himself to make a sound. He would not give in to the pained cries trying to push out of his mouth, the sounds of pain he knew the demon wanted to hear. The demon snarled in annoyance and deepened the gashes, more blood soaked the shirt and Dean gave in, pained moans escaped him.

 

“Stop it! Stop! You bastard! What do you want me to do?”. Dean hardly registered Sam’s cries. He chest was on fire and he was getting lightheaded from the blood loss.

 

The demon smile down at Dean’s slumped body victoriously. The hunter was near to the point of passing out, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, his skin had gone alarmingly pale, his eyes were unfocused. The coppery scent of blood filled the air.

 

“A trade Sammy. That’s what I want, you for Dean’s freedom. You have one hour to get here. Look for the abandoned prison just out of town. It takes around ¾ of an hour to get here by car. No tricks or Dean dies, and with the connections I got? I can put his soul in hell for all eternity. You don’t want that do you Sam?”, the demon told him.

 

“I’ll be there” Sam said tightly, hanging up.


	7. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: omg i finished another chapter! 3 chaps in 2 days! cool. lol.  
i was in a mad rush to get through as much as possible before that epi airs and heres another part of the result. i hope its sufficiently different to whatever happens on the show so they cant be compared  


* * *

He stayed deep in the shadows, carefully watching what was happening. When he had tracked the strong hunter to an establishment he recognized as a bar within the run down town he found he was not the only one to have plans for the young warrior. He feasted his senses on the pure essence radiating off the warrior, he was young, fit, with features almost too pretty for a masculine person who relied on strength and skill to survive. The warrior walked steadily out the door and was almost immediately set upon by an attractive young woman. He frowned as he saw her lead him to her automobile, his instincts nagged at him, all was not as it seemed. Pulling focus away from the warrior he turned his powers to the woman, within moments he realized she was possessed by a demon. Displeased that others wanted the warrior he let events play themselves out and watched with curiosity as the man was captured.

 

He followed as the demon took the warrior to an abandoned building and met another man. He recognized a more powerful demon possessing that persons body, he idly wondered if they were any match for him. He did not want the warrior killed, he wanted him for himself. He watched as the warrior was tortured, nostrils flaring as his super sensitized sense of smell caught the strong smell of fresh, oozing blood. He decided to make his presence known, stepping forward as he removed the cloak of invisibility he had shrouded himself in using his psychic powers. 

 

The yellow eyed demon was immediately alert to the new presence in the building. His eyes narrowed.

 

“Who are you?” he snarled angrily.

 

“I want to propose a deal. Something that will benefit both of us. You may call me Rajani. And you should be asking me what I am, not who.” he calmly stated.

 

The demon recognized the power of the thing in front of him. It had the body of a human but he knew it was anything but. The being radiated energy and power, tightly leashed within, but ready to be let out against any threat.

 

His eyes focused on the unusual markings on the being’s forehead. An intricate marking flowered against the milky skin on his face.

 

“I know what you are” the demon realized, he had not seen one of these supernatural beings for a long time, centuries in fact though he knew some still existed.

 

It smiled. “Then you know what I want with the hunter. Dean, you said his name was?”

 

The demon narrowed his eyes. “I need him. You can’t have him.”

 

Rajani simply shrugged. “But you will kill him when he has served your purposes. Let me have him then. He will be as good as dead when I’m finished with him. You need not worry about that. I heard a little of your plan earlier, you want him to suffer but until you get that boy you need to keep him alive. I can make him suffer when I‘m done with him, better then you can ever do. Hell would be a blessing compared to the pain and torment I can put him through.” he could see he was winning the demon over, the hunter must have really hurt the demon for it to want him to suffer so much.

 

“Father! No! I want to kill him. He sent my sister to hell and killed my brother. Your children, father!” the brunette broke in angrily.

 

The demon’s eyes hardened. It looked like he wasn’t willing to give up the hunter after all, the need for personal vengeance too great. Rajani decided to go the other route to get what he wanted. Within seconds he had materialized behind the brunette and snapped her neck, that wouldn’t kill the demon possessing the body but now it didn’t have a live body to manipulate it was forced to expel itself from the limp body and disappeared to find a new body to possess.

 

Turning on the yellow eyed demon he charged forward. Killing him like he had killed the brunette would not work with him. He was more powerful and would not be easily stopped. The demon glanced between him and the unconscious hunter, a feral look passed its face as he decided to cut his losses and get out of there. Black smoke spewed from the man’s mouth and disappeared through the ceiling. Rajani grabbed the dazed man and before he registered what was happening Rajani had already started feeding. The man’s mind was weak, having been tamed by the demon during his possession and offered little resistance.

 

A slight noise a few feet away distracted him from his feeding and he looked away from his prey to see a young man at the entrance. So this was the brother of the hunter, he decided. He could tell this man was a hunter also, but he did not have the same aura or essence as the warrior. He was more innocently pure, less hardened then his brother. 

 

He dropped the now rotting corpse as he finished sucking out his spiritual energy, already parts of the corpse smoldered lightly and flesh disintegrated into ash.

 

The hunter pulled a gleaming, sharp looking dagger from his jacket, alert eyes briefly landed on his brother analyzing his situation. 

 

Rajani used that brief moment to garner his power, strengthened by his recent feed.

 

“Look at me hunter.”

 

He waited as the young hunter struggled to resist, but eventually he did, the power of his voice pulling hard.

 

“You are going to put that weapon away. You are not going to hurt me. Now lie down and close your eyes. You are going to have a rest.” he commanded and watched in satisfaction as the man followed his orders.

 

He and the other hunter would be long gone by the time the man woke up.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Rajani looked down at the unconscious hunter. He had cleaned and bandaged the wounds but he would not treat them any further. The injuries the hunter had suffered would help Rajani quite a bit, weakening the hunter’s defences, making it slightly easier to penatrate his mind and allow him to feed. Powerful spiritual energy radiated off the young body, Rajani could practically taste it on his tongue. Placing a palm on his forehead he focused on accessing the hunter’s most personal dreams and hopes, his ambitions, his regrets, his failures. All of which he needed if he wanted to build a convincing reality for him, he would be suspicious at first, he had first hand experience of supernatural occurrences and beings, he would be resistant at first but the more elablorate the reality the more real it would become and the weaker the hunter’s resistance would become.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(NOTE: THIS SCENE CONTINUES DIRECTLY FROM THE FIRST CHAPTER (THE PREVIEW))

 

"Oh Thank God! You're awake baby. I was so worried about you!"

 

No! This can't be, Dean thought, shocked. I'm dreaming. The woman was now leaning over him on the opposite side of Sam. She gently took his hand lying limply on the bed covers. No, this isn't right, he thought.

 

Long wavy blond hair, oval face, pretty features scrunched with concern. A face he hadn't seen in more than two decades, bar one split moment that first time he and Sammy had returned to Kansas in search for answers about Sam‘s new found abilities. 

 

"Mom?”.

 

“No”, Dean mumbled, flinching and snatching his hand away. “You’re dead. You can’t be here.” His wild gaze landed on the last presence in the room, one he also immediately recognized and who he knew couldn‘t possibly be standing right there, alive and well either. His father.

 

The thing that looked like his mom but who couldn’t be gasped as he snatched his hand away. “ Dean, what’s wrong honey?”

 

“I’m dreaming. You can’t be here. You’re dead.”, Dean murmured agitated. He had never had dreams as explicit and detailed like this before. He could smell the antiseptic smell all hospitals had, he could hear the soft beeps of machines nearby, hear the tinny whine of people being paged over the speaker, hell he could even smell the faint trace of lavender perfume he remembered his mom wearing when she was alive.

 

“I have to wake up now. I’m still tied up in that chair that son of a bitch tied me up in. Sammy will be there soon. I gotta save him before the demon gets him. I swear I‘ll kill the damn demon with my bare hands.”

 

He flinched away as John came forward.

 

“Dean. Son what are you doing? You don’t recognise your own mother? Demons? I’m calling the doctor.”

 

Dean couldn’t help shrinking back into the bed. Everything, everyone seemed so solid, so real. It looked as if he could reach out and physically catch hold of his two dead parents. It hurt to look at them, to think they were right there, within arms reach, but it couldn’t be real, it was a dream, that was it or if it wasn’t it was hallucinations induced by blood loss- yeah that was it, Dean decided as pinching his arm hard proved to not wake him up.

 

He watched as Sammy went to their mother’s side and pulled her into a hug. 

 

“It’s ok Mom. He’s probably just confused or something, he has been in a coma for nearly 7 weeks now. Maybe it’s the drugs they’ve been pumping into him.”

 

Dean wrinkled his forehead in thought. He would have thought he’d come to by now, he‘d never lost consciousness for such a long time before.

 

The door opened and John returned with who he assumed to be the doctor, a man in his late 40’s with a tall build and fading blonde hair. A nurse followed behind them.

 

“Mr. Winchester. Pleased to meet you properly at last. My name is Dr. Carmichael and I’ve been treating you since you landed in the ER nearly 2 months ago. Now can you tell me if you remember what happened?”, he murmured as he began a quick examination of Dean’s vitals.

 

Dean shook his head angrily, he didn’t understand what was going on, nothing was making sense. Was this the demon’s doing? It had to be, it must be some sick game of his.

 

“This is some sick game isn’t it! Where is the demonic son of a bitch? It’s all a part of the plan to take Sammy isn’t it? Show yourself bastard! Christo”.

 

Nothing happened. The doctor exchanged concerned looks with John and Mary.

 

“Dean” the doctor began carefully, “what are you talking about? You’re not making much sense right now. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you get better.”

 

“This isn’t real. Simple as that. I don’t know what’s happening this cant be happening. You’re dead, you died when I was 4”pointing to Mary before pointing to John ,“and you died not so long ago. This isn’t real. It all feels real but it isn’t. It‘s a trap or something.”

 

John pulled Mary into his arms, his face was wrinkled with concern for their firstborn.

 

“Dean you’re confused. Just calm down ok bro? the doc’ll fix you up in no time.” Sam said worriedly turning puppy eyes on the doctor, silently pleading for him to fix his big brother.

 

The doctor pulled John and Mary away from the cot as Sam lowered himself onto the bed by Dean’s legs.

 

Parts of the conversation drifted over to where Dean lay.

 

“What’s wrong with our son, doctor?”

 

“Not sure. He seems confused about where he is, what’s happened, who you are. Its not uncommon for coma patients to be confused when they reawaken but I’ve never seen any vehement denial of their life and people around them happen before. And this talk of demons and traps…it’s unusual.”

 

“Sammy, Sammy you have to help me. Tell me what to do. I don’t understand what’s happening here. Is it the demon?” Dean pleaded, Sammy looked real enough to him, maybe it really was his Sammy, maybe they were both stuck here, wherever here was, together.

 

Sam’s expression was troubled. “Dean I don’t know what you’re talking about man. Demons? They don’t exist.”

 

“They do! We hunt them Sammy, you and me, and other evil stuff too. Don’t you remember?” Dean begged. Maybe the demon had gotten to Sam. Wiped his memory or something.

 

“Son, stop it. You’re confused. Its ok.” John said trying to soothe him.

 

Dean stiffened as he watched the nurse approach with a syringe in her hand.

 

“What’s that? I don’t want it” he said, eyes locked on the needle.

 

“It’ll help you sleep Dean. You need the rest, you’re a little confused right now. You’ll feel better again when you wake up” the doctor explained, filling in notes on his chart.

 

“No. No. I’m fucking sick of you all saying I’m confused. I’m not!” he yelled, edging away.

 

“Dean. Dean, don’t. Its for your own good.” Sam said, holding Dean back against the bed.

 

Dean moaned and squirmed into Sam. “Sammy don’t let them do it. Please! You have to believe me. None of this is real. Mom is dead, Dad is dead. A demon killed them! We’re hunters, have been practically all our life! Please, believe me!” he begged desperately. 

 

“Dean I don’t know what to say. There’s no such thing as demons and look at mom and dad! They’re right there, they’re fine, alive! You have to stop talking about this nonsense we’re not hunters! I’ve never seen a demon in my life except for in movies. I’m in college! A normal guy with a normal life. A mom, a dad, an elder brother, a girlfriend. And you! You’re normal too. A normal guy with a normal job and a normal life, until something bad happened and you ended up in hospital. Am I getting through to you? I need you to get better bro. You aren’t the big bro I remember, I want him back.”

 

Dean stared up into his brother’s face, his tear filled eyes. Uncertainty filled him. Was he confused as everyone seemed to think? Had he been disillusioned all along? He needed to figure this out and quick, perhaps it was best if he didn’t try to convince people what he thought was really happening.

 

“Ok. Maybe you’re right Sammy. I, I think I might need a rest after all, to clear my mind” DEan answered.

 

Sam visibly sagged in relief as did the rest of the occupants in the room.

 

“But I still don’t want the sedative. Maybe some painkillers but no sedatives” Dean stated.

 

“Of course Dean. I‘ll leave you to it Nurse Ryan” the doctor said before taking his leave.

 

Dean figured if it was something supernatural at work then he would either have to figure it out or rely on Sam to get him out of this mess. He doubted the Sammy here was his Sammy. He’d have to lay low till then.

 

Mary stepped forward. “Honey your father and I are just going downstairs to the cafeteria ok, we’ll be back shortly.”

 

Both Sam and Dean nodded.

 

“Sammy? Tell me about…refresh my memory for me will you. Things are…fuzzy.” Dean asked. He’d have to know the basic details to act the part.

 

Sammy frowned. “You mean stuff about you? You seriously don’t remember anything at all?” he asked, concerned.

 

“I, uh, I don’t know. Just humour me will ya?” he asked.

 

“Where do you want me to start Dean?”

 

“How bout how I ended up here. And you mentioned something about a coma?”

 

“god, that’s a tough question. It’s hurts to remember, I was so scared when I found out you’d been hurt bad. You got hurt on the job. I guess one of the downsides about your job is that some of the people you have to interact with are pretty dangerous.”

 

“Job? What kind of job?”, Dean asked.

 

“You don’t remember your job? It’s like the love of your life, besides the Impala. And Tate.”

 

At Dean’s blank look, Sam sought to expand on the details. 

 

“You’re a social worker Dean. Y’know? Taking abused and neglected kids out of violent homes, helping them get over their traumatic experiences, finding them good homes, loving families. You’re damn good at it too, kids trust you, they absolutely adore you.”

Dean was flabbergasted. “But…you need a college degree or something like that don’t you?” he stammered.

 

Sam gave him a look. “No duh. You did. Go to college I mean. You honestly don‘t remember any of this? Anyway back to what happened. All I know is from what the cops told me. You removed two children from a suspected abusive home and the dad, who buy the way is like twice your weight and a head taller then you didn’t like that very much. He was a no good loser, unemployed, addicted to all sorts of drugs and crap, relied on the kids government assistance to buy his stash. Anyway he and a buddy of his followed you from the office one night, got the drop on you, beat the shit out of you and left you for dead. You were in a coma for 7 weeks.”

 

Sam was starting to look a little teary eyed again so Dean quickly changed the topic.

 

“So uhh you mentioned the Impala?” 

 

Sam smiled, “I shoulda known out of everything it’d be the Impala you’d remember”.

 

“Hey! She’s my baby, of course I’m gonna remember her! Now who‘s this Tate you mentioned”, he retorted.

 

A cheeky glimmer appeared in Sam’s eyes. “Tate? Oh he’s a fireman.”

 

“Sooo?” Dean asked disinterestedly as he struggled to get comfortable on the hard mattress. He reached out for the plastic cup of water on the stand next to the cot. Sam quickly moved to help him.

 

“Dude I’m fine! I can handle a few sips of water by myself you know. So what‘s this Tate dude got to do with me?”

 

Sam grinned and shrugged. “Well like I said he’s your other baby. You two have been pretty serious for a few months now. But mom and dad don’t know. Dude!”

 

Dean choked on his drink, spraying water out of his mouth. “What!?” he coughed and wheezed slightly, wincing as Sam tried to help by hitting his back.

 

“I don’t know whether to laugh at the expression on your face or be alarmed at the fact you don’t remember your own boyfriend.” Sam said.

 

And I don’t know whether I should worry about the fact I’ve apparently been seeing a fireman or the fact that I’m in a serious relationship, Dean silently thought.

 

“He visits nearly everyday you know. He‘s not allowed to stay long though cos he‘s not family or anything, and mom and dad think he‘s just a mate or something so I couldn’t get his name put on the list so that he could visit any time.” Sam said quietly.

 

Dean’s interest was piqued. Everything so far seemed so normal and he was tempted to believe everything he had been told, he had wondered more than once what life would have been like for the Winchesters if Mary had never died, if Sam had never been ‘special’, if they had never had to fight the supernatural. Apparently this was what it would be like.


	8. Chapter 7

  
Author's notes: a short little update. =P  
ohh yeah very minute spoiler for WIAWSNB i think. just a little mention of what mary used to tell dean when he was tucked into bed so not very spoilery.  


* * *

Dean tried to fight the tiredness that was pulling at him, trying not to sink into the sleep that beckoned him. He didn’t want to sleep just yet and although he felt as if he’d been run over by a bus it was worth fighting the pain and drowsiness to just lie there and listen to Sam talk. Letting his deep voice soothe him as he talked about people he didn’t know and the things he had apparently missed while in a coma. Dean knew none of this was real, that the Sam sitting by him, talking to him, wasn’t real and that any moment he would snap out of it to find himself tied to the chair, bleeding and waiting for Sam to walk into the trap the demon and his daughter had set for him. 

 

“Hey Sam? Do you uh, do you sometimes have dreams? Or nightmares? That sometimes come true?”, Dean asked.

 

Sam looked at him strangely. “No I don’t Dean. Why?” he answered slowly.

 

Dean smiled. “No reason”. 

 

Everything he was hearing, seeing, smelling or touching wasn’t real no matter how it might seem the opposite but it sure felt good. His parents were alive, Sam and he weren’t hunters, Sam was in college, he had a job and Sam didn’t have psychic powers. It sounded too good to be real. And that was exactly what it was. Dean was beginning to suspect he had made everything up in his head, perhaps being tortured by a demonic son of a bitch tended to mess with your mind one too many times tended to screw with your mind, the shock of rapid blood loss would aid with that too. Dean was fairly sure the yellow eyed demon himself wasn’t directly causing this strange situation. Demons did a lot of things but no research he had ever seen or heard even remotely hinted that demons had the power to warp realities, mess with timelines or screw with someone’s head. It had to be himself, his own mind playing tricks on him. Maybe weaving an elaborate fantasy and immersing himself into it was his mind’s way of keeping him alive, Sammy needed protecting after all. Unfortunately Dean had the sinking feeling that this time he wouldn’t be able to save his baby brother, this time it was him that needed saving too.

 

The drowsiness became more insistent, tugging harder, drawing him in. Dean sighed and settled more comfortably into the hospital cot. Sam leaned closer.

 

“Tired bro? You should get some rest. Everything‘s going to be ok.”

 

Dean stared up at his brother. He was so beautiful. He felt a pang at the thought, over the years he had worked at pushing those un-brotherly-like feelings so deep inside him that even he couldn’t feel them, but every once in awhile Sam would do or say something and the feelings would just hit him out of nowhere. 

 

His eyelids became heavy and Dean decided to not fight it. It was time to get back to reality, back to that cold, abandoned building, back to facing the demon. 

 

As Dean felt himself slipping into sleep he heard the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching him. 

 

“Hey son, how’s Dean”, he heard his dad whisper.

 

“Just went to sleep a few moments ago. We had a good talk.” he heard Sam answer, also in a whisper.

 

He smelt the faint scent of lavender as his mother approached. He felt warm hands on his cheek, caressing the side of his face. 

 

“Sleep well baby boy. The angels are watching over you” she whispered.

 

Tears threatened to drip from his closed eyes, it had been many years since he had felt that exact same touch, and heard those words from his mother. It was painful to remember, after her death there had been no more kisses, no more being tucked into bed, no more scent of lavender in the air. Even though it wasn’t real, he could pretend it was, just for a little while. He let the soothing feeling of Mary caressing his cheek lull him into a deep sleep. When he woke up he would be back where he last remembered.


	9. Chapter 8

  
Author's notes: another small update. it may be one of the last for a few weeks as i have exams rapidly approaching. *freaking out* lol. umm what do u think about dean's fireman hottie? i dont know if i want to keep the fic strictly sam/dean so if u have any preferences? i may add a bit of dean/omc but i cant quite decide...  


* * *

Sam woke up feeling groggy. He blinked in disbelief as he eyed his surroundings.

 

“What the hell?”.

 

He sat up and discovered he was lying on the dirty, cold concrete of what appeared to be some sort of abandoned building. His hand touched something on the ground beside him and he glanced down to find his dagger. 

 

He gasped as his mind cleared and he remembered what had happened before he blacked out. He remembered hunting that poltergeist, Dean kissing him, pushing Dean away feeling shocked and confused, telling him to let him have some time alone to think. And then Dean not coming back to the motel room, being gone all night and finally getting that phone call from the demon saying he had Dean. Sam had never felt as afraid as he had then. The demon had Dean. The last time that had happened Dean had ended up on the brink of death.

 

Dean! Where was he?! Sam remembered seeing him bloodied and tied to a chair. He saw the chair, tipped onto its side, ropes lying on the ground beside it. 

 

“Dean!” he yelled hoping he had somehow escaped. But that didn’t make sense, where was he then? As much as he would never admit it Sam knew Dean took his big brother duties seriously, he would never have left Sam lying here. 

 

Remembered words spun in his head “You are going to put that weapon away. You are not going to hurt me. Now lie down and close your eyes. You are going to have a rest”. he remembered the beautiful man standing beside Dean’s unconscious form, his commanding voice, the hypnotic eyes. Dean must have been taken. But it wasn’t the demon. This person had had blue eyes, there was no hint of evil yellow orbs.

 

The strong stench of rotting flesh and sulphur invaded his senses. Sam’s eyes widened as he got up and saw the corpse a few feet away. 

 

“Dean? No, no, no, no”. he hurried over to the corpse.

Sam swayed as dizziness overpowered him. It wasn’t Dean, the body wasn’t wearing the clothes Sam remembered last seeing Dean in. He stepped away from the gruesome sight. He had never seen anything like this before, the corpse looked like it had been sucked dry, the skin was wrinkled, the hair falling out and as Sam peered closer he could see…ash? But how was that possible? The corpse hadn’t been burnt.

 

Something on the corpse caught his attention. He leaned closer and picked it up from the jacket’s pocket. Dean’s mobile. He stared at the powdery substance streaked on the phone’s screen. Sulphur. The connection clicked, the corpse was most likely the host body for the yellow eyed demon. Did that mean the man who had put him to sleep had killed him? The demon was most likely long gone then.

 

He turned away, right now he had to focus on Dean and who…or what had taken him. Sam was certain he or it had had some sort of psychic power. It had commanded him to put down his weapon and sleep and he had, he hadn’t been able to resist, his eyes had been fixated on the beautiful, shimmering blue eyes staring right at him. 

 

Sam froze as he spotted another body a few feet away from the corpse. As he stepped closer he saw it was a woman. She didn’t resemble the other corpse at all, her neck was obviously broken and the cause of her death but otherwise her body seemed to be in normal condition. She hadn’t been dead long. Sam kneeled beside her, she was very pretty and young, he noticed the scent on sulphur on her and sorrow filled him. She must have also been possessed, a puppet for the demon to do as it wished. Did the yellow eyed demon kill her or was it also due to the other man? If it was he couldn’t be human.

 

He had no idea what he was dealing with. It was time to get help. Dean was at the mercy of an unknown supernatural entity and time could be running out. Without looking back he left the abandoned jail. There was only one person he knew that had any hope of helping him find Dean. He pulled out his mobile and punched out the familiar number from memory.

 

He listened to the rings as it dialed and sighed in relief as a gruff voice answered.

 

“Bobby? It’s Sam. I need your help.”


	10. Chapter 9

  
Author's notes: so here's the next chapter XD. a teensy bit rushed, but it turned out ok i think anyway.  


* * *

Dean woke to the soft beeping sounds of the monitor attached to his arm via an IV line. He focused his blurry vision on a bright splash of colour a few steps away from the bed. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he realized he was looking at a vase-full of flowers. His brain was on high alert as he realized he had woken up but was still in the hospital. A hospital that couldn’t be real. Why was he still here? What the hell was happening to him, it had only been yesterday that he had walked into a trap set by the yellow eyed demon and his daughter to be used as bait to capture Sam. He remembered vividly being beaten and tortured before losing consciousness and waking up in hospital where he had seen his long dead family apparently alive and crying and smiling in relief at his awakening from a coma. His parents were alive, Sam was in college and didn’t have psychic visions, no one knew about the supernatural, he had a 9 to 5 job and to top it off a fireman boyfriend. 

 

“I’ve finally lost it.”, Dean murmured to himself.

 

He turned his head as he heard approaching footsteps that stopped outside his door. The door opened and he saw Sam’s mop of hair peek around the side.

 

“Hey Dean. You’re awake”, he grinned, eyes sparkling happily. He ambled into the room and dragged the room’s single chair to the side of his bed. Lowering his large frame onto the chair he critically studied Dean’s face.

 

“How you feeling bro?”, he asked.

 

Dean shrugged. “As well as I can given the damn hard bed, the stiff blankets and the nurses coming in to prod me awake every few hours just to check how I’m feeling. Oh yeah, can’t forget the awful hospital smell either.”, he snorted.

 

Sam looked crestfallen. “Don’t worry Dean. Just concentrate on getting better and I’m sure you’ll be able to get out of this place in no time.” he soothed.

 

“So, where’s…Mom and Dad?”, Dean asked, the word ‘Mom’, almost an alien word to him.

 

“They’re coming by a little later. They had some errands to run.’, Sam shrugged. 

 

“Good news bro. I called Tate last night to tell him you woke up but I couldn’t get a hold of him till just a little while ago. He and the some of the crew were doing some kind of compulsory simulated exercise for training. Anyway I had to promise him you were doing okay under the circumstances and order him to go home and shower and nap a little before he rushed over but I don’t know if he’s gonna listen to me man. He’s had it rough these past few weeks you know? I guess he should be here soon.”.

 

Dean didn’t know what to think about this ‘Tate’ guy. Sam continued to talk despite Dean’s lack of contribution to the conversation.

 

“So are you feeling, you know. Better?”, he asked, emphasizing the ‘better’.

 

Dean shot the Sam duplicate a sharp glance. “What do you mean? I just told you how I felt.”

“No I mean. the stuff you said when you woke up. You know the stuff about Mom and Dad. Being dead. And talking about demons like they were real.”, Sam said, a little uncomfortable.

 

Dean’s mind raced for a plausible cover up excuse. He needed to pass himself off as normal if he were to figure out what sort of mess he had gotten himself into. 

 

“Dude. I just woke up from a 2 month coma, or so you’ve told me. I got bashed in the skull, I’m pumped full of all sorts of drugs, do you think anyone would say anything remotely rational after all that?”

 

Sam smiled in relief. “Yeah dude. You’re totally right. Sorry, I was just worried for you. Really freaked out the parents too.”.

 

Sam shifted closer and Dean tried to ignore the expanse of smooth, tanned flesh between Sam’s throat and neckline of the shirt he had on.

 

“So, Dean. The doc’s gonna be by later to give you another check up. Do you remember anything since last night?.”

 

Dean shrugged. “Practically everything is blank. I mean I know who you and Mom and Dad are. I know who I am. But everything else? Nothing. I don’t remember my childhood, I don’t remember how I got here. It’s strange.” he answered truthfully. Even though he was adept at lying and slipping into false identities he wouldn’t be able to hold the charade long in this situation.

 

“Don’t worry, bro. I talked to the doc last night after you fell asleep. He hasn’t confirmed it for sure but he suspects that the beating caused some psychological trauma that’s making you repress your memories so you wouldn’t have to deal with it and so it‘ll give your body some time to heal from the attack. The human brain is a complex and unusual thing. The doctor said that if this was the case all we could do was let you heal at your own pace, and that you were likely to regain your own memories by yourself when you were ready to deal with it. He said we could help by telling you about yourself that might prompt you to remember certain things. You shouldn’t stress about all this though Dean-o. we‘re all just so happy you‘ve woken up and we‘ve got you back again. It was touch and go for awhile.”, Sam said, voice trembling and breaking slightly.

 

Dean couldn’t believe how alike this Sam was to his Sam. He had the puppy eyes and the girly nature down pat.

 

Dean’s glance fell on the gym bag by Sam’s feet. “What’s that?”, he asked curiously, changing the topic.

 

Sam sniffled slightly and then brightened as he pulled the bag onto his lap, unzipped it and began taking the contents out.

 

“I stopped by your apartment and got you some stuff to, you know, make you feel more comfortable here. Mom made me a list of basics and I just added some other stuff I thought you might want. We already got you the more necessary stuff after you ended up here, Mom insisted on keeping you well groomed even though you were in a coma. So your hair got brushed every day and you got a clean shave every 2 or 3 days.”

 

Dean lifted a hand to his jaw and found it smooth and hairless. 

 

“Okay. Your laptop. Car magazines. Ipod. Playstation portable. Some books you started reading but didn’t get to finish. Peanut M&M’s. Some T-shirts and sweatpants, underwear. And oh yeah! Don’t worry Dean-o I didn’t forget. Look, it’s Mr. Snuggles! I bet you he‘s missed you so much while you were gone.”

 

Dean’s expression went from pleased to near horrified as he stared at the object in Sam’s hands.

 

“What the hell is that!”, he croaked over Sam’s cackling.

 

“I would never have believed this earlier, but maybe there is a bright side to this weirdo amnesia thing of yours. If it means I get to retell every single embarrassing fact about you, or every stupid mistake you’ve ever made.” Sam said, mouth widening in a grin.

 

Dean’s eyes remained glued to the furry object in Sam’s hands. On closer inspection he saw that it was a slightly ragged looking brown teddy bear with a faded red bow tie on its neck. Dean jumped scooted up in his bed slightly as Sam threw the bear onto his lap.

 

“Dean Winchester, Mr. Snuggles. Mr. Snuggles, Dean Winchester.”, Sam said mock politely.

 

Dean stared distastefully at the bear. “This is some kind of joke, right Sammy?” he asked.

 

“Sammy? You haven’t called me that since I went from a chubby 12 year old kid to a skinny, clumsy high school student. And it’s no joke. Mr. Snuggles is your beloved childhood toy, your best friend. The toy you never got rid of. You sleep with the damn thing in your bed sometimes, and I’ve caught you talking to it too. Confiding your everyday troubles and worries. It‘s kinda sweet actually”, Sam relented.

 

“You really not getting any vibes or flashbacks or whatever?”, Sam asked, disappointed.

 

“Nope. Sorry. Seriously, this isn’t a joke? Dean Winchester does not do teddy bears. It‘s unmanly”, Dean said. Nevertheless he did have to admit, only to himself of course that the bear was kinda, and only kinda, cute. He propped the teddy against the lamb on the hospital bedside table. 

 

Sam smirked and Dean glared at him. “Wipe that smile off your face. The teddy might help me remember later or something, ok?!”.

 

Dean was surprised at how easily he had forgotten his situation and treated the Sam duplicate as if he was his real brother and that they were having a normal conversation. 

 

The Sam duplicate laughed and lifted his hands in front of his chest as a gesture of surrender, and Dean had to forcibly remind himself that none of this was real, that this Sam was not his brother. That his real brother was alone and possibly hurt somewhere out there and all because he had been stupid enough to let slip his non-brotherly feelings for Sam and screw up. 

 

“Did the doc say when I can get out of here?”, he asked gruffly. He could still feel the dull aching throb of his apparent injuries through the multiple drugs they had him on but he believed he could handle it. He needed to get moving to try to find a way back to Sam. 

 

“Well, you did just miraculously come out of a two month coma dude. I don’t think you’ll be walking out those hospital doors any time soon…”, Sam began.

 

Dean lost track of what Sam was saying as a sharp pain began to radiate through his body. Through a haze of pain he saw the Sam duplicate’s mouth moving but couldn’t hear the words. He couldn’t help gasping and gripping his head as sharp slivers of pain attacked him. Through squeezed eyes he saw the Sam duplicate’s panicked expression as he mouthed “Dean” and gripped his shoulder with one hand as the other punched repeatedly the bedside button calling for assistance. The agonizing pain overcame him and he let himself slide into oblivion.

 

=========================================================

 

The figure with the striking blue eyes and long fall of silky black hair smiled in satisfaction as he leaned over the prone hunter. This young man was not like the prey he usually hunted, this one was strong and skilled. He would not give in easily, even after he had been submerged in to the ultimate fantasy he still fought it., He was too highly trained to fall prey to his carefully woven trap. And so he had to interfere, the tightly locked essence he could sense in the young man beckoned him, it was like a power he had not seen for many years in the many countries and continents he had spanned. And so he had had to resort to using skills he hadn’t needed to in a long time, he had started forcibly removing the hunter’s memories and planned to replace them with new ones. Memories that were of a normal and happy childhood. He had to be careful though to lesson the hunter’s suspicions, for now he was being cautious as he carefully removed the memory upon memory of dark, dank motel rooms, hunting all sorts of evil creatures of the night, weapons and fighting training and a motherless upbringing. The hunter would reawaken sore and weak, mind fuzzy on the details. Hopefully with time he would become fully ensconced in the fake world he had fallen into. And only then would the young man’s life essence be ripe for the taking. And he would savour it.


End file.
